#oph god here we go here we go.

[raytm]

SOBBED - gepard :)

send SOBBED for a scene from my muse's past in which they broke down in tears.

the tutor’s wizened face was twisted with disdain, from beneath her long, angular nose she griped about the children of the noble house and their incessant, tumultuous mutiny. her lectures were monotonous, vast expanses of history cast in the washed out, anemic light of a participant. in spite of her gnarled, spindly fingers and her deteriorating eyesight, they had been entirely convinced she had deluded herself to its grandeur. serval had stated, rather astutely, that in her senility she had mistaken herself for an illustrious soldier, rather than an old, barbaric educator. swept up in his sister’s maelstrom, gepard had eluded her hawkish, bespectacled gaze, his sister’s hand firm around his wrist, a marshal of fictitious expeditions and elusive treasure. their footfalls echoed through the estate, resounding with the thrill of the unknown, suffused not with old dust and desiccated narration. his sister had all the proclivities of a leader, the sort of person other’s amassed before, charisma, one of their teacher’s had called it, rebellion, his father had, less pleasantly. 

the two dashed along the long, sinuous corridors, condemned by the captious scowls of their predecessors, painted in superlative detail. his wrist bobbed with each stride, still clasped between her willowy fingers, his lurching a little to keep pace with her longer, adrenalized ones. his sister was wise beyond her years, peerless in her ways with mechanisms, many days had he spent in awe of her as she dismantled and remade things over and over again, each time with ineffable improvements. he trusted her to carve a path through their world of aristocratic propriety and the antiquated chronicles of their ancestor’s grand achievements. they would laugh in tandem, their elation a polarity to their father’s stringent regulations. he had not intended to, but as they bustled through the halls, past closed, imposing doors and their father’s study, ajar but only just, his shoulder collided with a pedestal of lacquered wood. the bust, proud and diligently sculptured, tilted precariously as pain burgeoned from the impact, staring at him grimly before it crashed to the floor in a raucous, fracturing annunciation of their presence. 

serval ceased in her tracks, gepard, reeling from the injury, almost ran into her. their father’s voice thundered, incensed and impaling, accusatory and withering. he doesn’t hear precisely what is spoken, there’s a strident ringing in his ears but he knows his father’s ire and can see it splotching red along his throat, his thick, dark brows drawn and corrugating. serval shields him almost instantly, throwing her arm out before him and bickering in retaliation, it wasn’t his fault, it was an accident but their father was deaf to her excuses, his wrath far more vehement than her umbrage. gepard cowered in the shadow of that grand pedestal, now shamefully vacant, crouching, pressing his hands firmly over his ears until the ringing and the quarreling was muted. his knees buckle, his hands tremble. he doesn’t want his sister to endure punishment on his behalf, doesn’t want to hear the ruthless malice of his father. he weeps, his palms pressed into his eyes until he sees incandescent flickers in the dark, until they roll down his cheeks, until his father mutters something bitterly and slams the door over his study closed, his sister now hovering over him, a comforting arm slung over his shoulder. her voice was lulling, a soft, dulcet hum he knew well, she’s reassuring him - but he cannot bring himself to look at her in that moment. there was more comfort in the dark, where his father’s encroaching shadow and the repercussions of this accident didn’t feel like a firm strike to the cheek. 

-

the battlefield did not offer clemency to those dauntless enough to walk its desolate, glacial trail. they had thought themselves prepared, in their thick, thermal clothes and their gleaming, silver armor, nothing could have devised a strategy to prevent this. the deathrattles of men rose with the lament of arctic winds, their strident screams of agony coursing through him in unadulterated anguish. the creatures that emerged from the hibernal, white mantle were atrocities, their eldritch forms trudging through thawing snow. the searing, biting sense of flesh broiling beneath armor, of skin splitting and peeling away black and withered, of death in gargantuan waves, towing them under one by one. some men, their wits fraying at the brink of their own demise, stray from the ranks, kicking up spindrifts of white as they, desperately, hopelessly, try to flee. a creature careens after them, too fast to track and lunges at one, dragging him wailing into the banks of white. more surge forward, a torrent of black swallowing soldier after soldier until their proud, reputable legion was but a few stragglers, terror stuttering in time with their pulse. Gepard’s head turns to his men, his shield glowing with heat, repelling burning fire and carving through tough caparace like hides to expose the grotesque, purple innards. those who fight alongside him are tenacious but the cold and torment erode their tenacity, their arms laden with fatigue, their eyes reserved and regarding death with imminence. “ get back, now.” his voice, despite how it wavers, holds the authority of their leader and garners their attention immediately. they gaze out into the frozen wasteland littered with corpses, humans, monsters, blood inundating the white to red. “ we’re retreating, back to cover.”  but their muscles ache in protest and their bones are weary with the weight of their duty, it takes a moment for them to acquiesce, falling back into the snow-drifts, the echo of monsters howling raucous and ferocious. out of the twenty men that had risen to meet the encroaching horde only six were remaining. 

there could never be enough time to mourn properly. amongst the dead were his comrades, his close friends, people with whom he had shared meals with, who he had trained alongside. dread sinks into him, heavy and dismal. this was what it meant to fight for their people, the death it entailed felt like a noose around his throat, he had been the one to lead them, to usher them to their untimely demise. disgrace was nothing in contrast to the despair, to the incorporeal visions of limbs wrested violently from their sockets, of sprays of blood sheening once prestigious scraps of armor. the screams were the worst, besetting him with nights of harrowing reprises of moribund wailing, awakening in a cold sweat. he sat in the shadows of serval’s shop, the sign turned over, closed, it read, even though it was hours earlier than usual. gepard felt like that child again, powerless to prevent the grievous reality of their circumstance. he drew his knees to his chest, wearing now a loose shirt and trousers, hardly decorated for battle - for war, his chin resting atop them. amongst the long, undulating stretches of darkness he was etiolated, his once proud features blanched, his eyes red and rimmed still with unshed tears. 

“ how can i face them ?” his cadence holds none of its verve, muted and morose. his father would have them present before the people, as survivors, as those who fought and won, who persisted against all odds and pushed back the monstrosities. they would cast their dead with medallions of gilded tribute and they would be remembered as heroes. in his heart they were still those cadets, those who shared laughter with him, who fought alongside him until their last breaths. he takes a long inhale, shuddering. “ any of them..” and his arms encompass his legs, as if it would anchor him, as if he could heave himself from the trenches of that day and pretend he was a dignitary of the silverman guard. A lone, quiet tear falls down his cheek, a damp spot on cotton, joining others in its profound anguish. Serval is perhaps the only thing holding him together, that he can come here and disappear from the expectant gaze of their father, of the mourning laments of the family’s without sons, without husbands. Gepard surmises that without it he would surely crumble beneath the weight of this loss. she sits beside him, her gaze affixed somewhere beyond the closed door and into the waning hum of the city. she says he can stay with her for a while and he reluctantly accepts, the gloom of his own home felt so treacherous. he doesn’t want to rely on her, had sworn that he would be stronger - yet here he was, once again, beneath her protective shield cowering like that frightened child. “ thank you.. Sis.” he murmurs, a soft, trembling sob that punctuates his failure, that has him resting his head against her shoulder and refusing to meet her gaze. 

[deb-1106]

Choices Flash Fic week 31

Hey all!!  ❤️ 

Because we've both been out of the game so long, and have really missed writing, my good friend (she was actually my very FIRST friend on this hellsite 😋❤️) @walkerismychoice and I have decided to motivate each other by writing together using our LI's and MC's from different choices books.  I'll be using Drake Walker and my MC, Ava Matheson from TRR, and Maggie will be using Bryce Lahela and her MC, Charlie Hawkins from Open Heart.  

This story will hopefully be the first of a weekly series of one-shots using @choicesflashfics prompts.

We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it! ❤️

Prompt 3  — “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?”

Book: TRR/OPH

Pairings: Drake x Ava, Bryce x Charlie

Rating: M

TW: Gun Violence

“Little Blossom?”

Ava’s eyes flew open.  

She was momentarily disoriented, caught somewhere between a memory and a nightmare. But as her eyes focused and she took in the institutional green walls and naugahyde seating of a hospital waiting room, the crushing reality of the evening’s events came flooding back.

***

Ava! Get down!”

Drake’s warning was the last thing she heard before his body slammed into hers, knocking her to the ground.  She screamed as a bomb exploded nearby, raining chunks of rubble down all around them as the acrid smell of gunfire burned her nostrils.

“Drake?” She cried, “Drake, we have to get out of here!

He didn’t move.

“Drake!“  Ava began to panic as she felt the warm, sticky dampness of his blood seep into her ballgown. She reached out to press her hand to his cheek and his eyelids fluttered open for just a moment.  He gave her a small smile. 

“I love you, Matheson.” He mumbled faintly as his eyes closed once again.

“NO!  Drake, wake up!  Please, baby.  I need you to wake up!”  She tried to wiggle out from underneath him, but the weight of his body was too much for her.

HELP!” She screamed, praying that her cries were loud enough to be heard over the chaos around them,  “PLEASE! … SOMEBODY HELP US!”

After what felt like an eternity, she felt Drake’s weight lifted from her body.  She immediately scrambled to her knees crawling on all fours to where he lay prone on the ballroom floor, his suit soaked with blood.

“Oh my God!” She gasped, “Drake!”

Bastien was kneeling over him, both hands pressed over a wound in Drake's shoulder as he barked out orders. “I NEED A MEDIC AND AN UNMARKED CAR…NOW!”

“Bastien! What’s going on?”  Tears streamed down Ava’s face as she grabbed Drake’s hand, alarmed by how cold it felt.

“Terrorist attack.  Drake took a bullet.”

Ava looked to Bastien for reassurance, “But…he’s going to be okay, right?”  

He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Bastien! Tell me he’s going to be okay.” She begged, “Please!”

He finally looked up, and the expression on his face made Ava’s blood run cold.

“The wound is close to his heart and he’s lost a lot of blood.” Bastien’s voice was somber, “If we can get him to the hospital quickly, he might have a chance.”

“Might?” Ava pressed a hand over her mouth and felt her stomach lurch. 

No!  This can’t be happening.  We were finally going to start our lives together. I can’t lose him now.

***

Maxwell knelt down beside the chair Ava had finally collapsed into after pacing the hospital corridors for hours.  He placed his hand over hers and squeezed gently.  “There’s a nurse here who wants to talk to you.” 

Heart hammering in her chest, Ava jumped to her feet, ignoring the pain of her own injuries as she anxiously faced the young nurse standing in the doorway.

“Is he okay?” She asked, “Is he out of surgery?  Can I see him?”

The nurse smiled kindly, the rapid-fire questions not phasing her in the least.

“Mr. Walker is still in surgery…” 

When Ava’s face crumpled, the nurse crossed the room to place a comforting hand on her arm, “But he has one of our top surgeons working on him, so rest assured, he’s in the best possible hands.”  She smiled warmly, “In fact, Dr. Lehela wanted me to let you know that Mr. Walker is out of the woods.  The bullet has been removed and they’re just cleaning out the remaining debris.  There was some concern about bone fragments splintering off and causing damage to the surrounding heart tissue, but that doesn't appear to have been the case.”

Ava felt her legs go weak with relief.

“Oh, Thank God.”

She felt Maxwell’s arms encircle her and sank wearily into his comforting embrace.

“See, Blossom.” He said, encouragingly, “I told you he was going to be okay. It’ll take more than a tiny little bullet to take him out.”

Ava nodded and squeezed Max’s hand without breaking eye contact with the nurse.

“How much longer do you think it’ll be before I can see him?”

“Once he’s out of surgery, he’ll go to recovery." She replied with a comforting smile.  "It’s hard to say how long he’ll be there, as everyone comes out of anesthesia differently, but a conservative estimate would be another hour or two.  Then he’ll be settled into a room and can receive visitors.”

Ava nodded and swiped at the tears which were once again sliding down her cheeks.  But this time, they were tears of relief.

“Thank you.”

The nurse smiled.  “Of course.  I’ll come get you when I have his room assignment.”  

Ava thanked her again.

Drake was going to be okay.  Liam had been unharmed in the attack and Bastien and Kiara came away with only minor injuries.  Somehow they’d all survived.

Suddenly Ava’s stomach growled…LOUDLY.

Maxwell laughed.  “Okay, now that we know Drake is okay…it’s time to take care of YOU.”

Ava began to protest but Maxwell was already propelling her toward the door. “No more excuses!  You need food, or at the very least some coffee, or you’ll find yourself in a hospital bed of your own.  Now MOVE!” 

Maxwell was wearing his stubborn expression, so Ava knew resistance was futile.

She let him lead her down to the Cafeteria. “I’ll go back up to the waiting room and let you know immediately if I hear anything from the doctors.”

“Thank you.” Ava replied weekly before walking through the cafeteria doors and meandering aimlessly towards the various food offerings.

—--

Charlie checked the time on her Apple watch. Wow, a whole 30 minutes for lunch today, she thought. Typically she was lucky to get half of that. Nobody ever told her the life of a hospital internist would be glamorous, but she still hadn’t been prepared for how tired and hungry she’d be so much of the time. Although they bill residency as a training program for your selected specialty, Charlie swore it was also meant to be a boot camp that only the strong survived. Only one more year and she’d have some semblance of a normal schedule as an attending physician.

“Coffee. Must have coffee first.” Charlie mumbled to herself, taking in the aroma of freshly brewed beans as she marched towards the machines only to be stopped in her tracks by someone hovering in front of them. Charlie went left, but then the woman went left. Then she tried to go right, but the woman shuffled to the right. Her patience running thin, Charlie spoke up. “Excuse me, could I sneak in here?”

“I’m sorry.” The woman spun to face her, and Charlie’s irritation melted away. The woman looked sad and tired for sure, but that was not an uncommon sight for visitors of the hospital cafeteria. There was something about her that drew Charlie in and made her want to comfort the woman. Maybe it was the fact that Charlie could see a little bit of herself in her - definitely not the flawless deep olive skin tone and dark hair, wildly contrasting with Charlie’s strawberry blonde locks and accompanying creamy white skin, but they appeared about the same age, and there was just something there that made them alike. Although Charlie was not prone to striking up friendships with hospital visitors, something told Charlie this was a connection she should make.

“Let me buy you a coffee.” Charlie offered.

The woman looked Charlie up and down, seemingly noting Charlie’s white coat and ID badge. “No, that’s okay. You can just go first. I have no idea what I want.”

“Please, I insist. Free coffee is one of the few perks I get for devoting my life to this place.” They both laughed and Charlie saw the first little spark of life return to the woman’s eyes.

Charlie grabbed two prepackaged sandwiches to go with the coffees and brought them over to the woman who had already seated herself at a cafeteria table.

"Thank you so much…" she glanced at the ID badge again, "....Dr. Hawkins. "I was too much of a wreck to even pick out something to eat. I'm sure you're busy, but would you care to join me?" 

Again, it wasn't typical of Charlie to hang out with random hospital guests, but she knew this woman needed a friend right now, and maybe that feeling was mutual. "Sure, I still have about 20 more minutes." Charlie sat down. "But you can call me Charlie."

"Well thank you again, Charlie, I'm Ava."

"Nice to meet you, Ava." Charlie hesitated for a moment before asking, "If it's not too forward, do you want to talk about your loved one here that's got you so worried?... Only if you want to talk about it."

Ava's facial expression grew somber once again. She took a deep breath before letting everything spill out - getting invited to Cordonia on a whim to compete for the future King's heart, fate stepping in when she fell for his best friend Drake instead, and all the political drama and everything leading up to the events that brought her to this particular hospital cafeteria. Despite the tears streaming down Ava’s face, the air about her felt a little bit lighter.

"I'm sorry." Charlie squeezed Ava’s hand from across the table. "This must be so scary for you, but Edenbrook is a great hospital. I'm sure Drake is in great hands. Do you know who his surgeon is? I probably know them or at least know of them.”

Ava pursed her lips in concentration. “Dr, La-....hala? I think it’s something like that.”

Charlie smirked. “Young, kind of surfer boy-esque, and cocky as all hell because he knows how good-looking he is?”

Ava laughed nervously. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Please tell me he’s also a good surgeon.”

“Dr. Lahela can be kind of cocky bastard at times, but I love him. And yes, he’s a great surgeon, and I’m not just saying that because I’m biased.”

“Wait…” Ava seemed to be putting the pieces together. “You like love, love him? Are you two-”

“Yes, Bryce is my boyfriend. I might not have been so complimentary about his other characteristics otherwise.”

They both devolved into laughter until Ava spoke up again. “I like your sense of humor. Sounds like you need it to put up with him, just like me with my….Drake.” Ava quiets for a moment and then asks, “So I take it you two met here at Edenbrook?”

“Well, that’s a funny story.” Charlie wondered if she really wanted to get into this with a relative stranger, but Ava had already shared so much and could probably use the distraction anyway. “We actually met at a strip club, and believe it or not, Bryce was a stripper.”

Ava’s eyes opened wide. “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?”

Charlie inhaled deeply. “Okay, I don’t have a ton of time left on my break, so I’ll give you the condensed version. My med school friends dragged me out to a strip club to celebrate after we graduated. I was in a funk because I’d been recently dumped by the douchebag I thought I was going to marry and to top it off, I was set to be in my awful cousin’s weeklong wedding extravaganza and was in no mood to be questioned about the whereabouts of my plus one. Said friends paid for a private lap dance for me. In my drunken state, I got the bright idea to hire the stripper to be my fake boyfriend for the wedding. Somewhere along the way, fake boyfriend turned into real love interest. I learned he wasn’t just a stripper but had worked his way through med school and was about to hang up his banana hammocks to start his residency. As fate would have it, we’d both matched at Edenbrook and two years later, here we are.”

“Woah. And I thought mine and Drake’s relationship had an unconventional start.” Ava peeked down at her phone on the table. “I’m definitely going to need the feature-length presentation of this story another time, but my friend Maxwell just texted that Drake’s out of surgery!”

“That’s great news!” Charlie got up with Ava and walked out to the elevators with her. “I’ll walk you back up there since I’m headed that way.

Little did either of them know that this chance meeting would be the beginning of a lifelong friendship.

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[walkerismychoice]

Serendipity - Part 4

Written for @choicesflashfics - Week 34

Prompt 3  — “ I think I need to be drunk to understand this story ”

Book: TRR/OPH

Pairings: Drake Walker x Ava Matheson, Bryce Lahela x Charlie Hawkins

Word count: 1814

Rating: M

TW: Profanity, Suggestive language

A/N: This is a collaboration between @deb-1106​ and @walkerismychoice using the weekly prompts provided by @choicesflashfics As always if you want on or off the tag list, just let me/us know. Deb usually posts to keep it consistent, but we were both kind of scrambling this week, so I’m getting this in under the wire for us. Charlie gasped. "Oh my God! Congratulations! She tilted Ava’s ring from side to side, watching the facets twinkle from the glow of the pendant lights.I'm so happy for you!" But was she? Well of course she was, but why, on some level did she feel a twinge of Jealousy.

"Yeah, Congrats! You're smart to be locking this one down already." Bryce directed his words at Drake and then winked at Ava. "How long have you two known each other again?

Drake glowered at Bryce momentarily but then lightened up. "You know, in absence of all the Whiskey we've had, I might take your comment as an insult, but you're right. I gotta make this thing legal before she realizes she's too good for me, heh."

"Oh stop!" Ava swatted Drake playfully. "You know that would never happen because it's not true." Turning back to Bryce and Charlie she said, "To answer your question, we've known each other about 6 months."

"Wow, 6 months…that's kind of fast," Charlie mused out loud before she could think to censor her thoughts.

Ava laughed. "If you asked me 6 months ago if I'd be anywhere near an engagement right now, I would have told you to get the fuck out of here."

"That's for sure," Drake interjected, and everyone laughed.

“Anyway,” Ava continued, “When you know, you know. There’s no need to wait for some arbitrary, socially acceptable length of time, right?”

“Cheers to that!” Bryce raised his glass towards the center of the table.

The others accepted the invitation and clinked their glasses, even Charlie who wasn’t feeling particularly celebratory. Cheers to that?! Did his agreement with the sentiment mean he wasn’t sure about his future with Charlie yet? Was Charlie just being dramatic? Just yesterday she had no doubts about the pace of her relationship with Bryce, so why did this suddenly feel like a competition she was losing? She felt tears start to prick the corners of her eyes.

“I’m going to use the restroom real quick,” Charlie excused herself without waiting for anyone’s reply. She locked herself in a stall and waited a few minutes until she felt more composed. 

Just as Charlie exited the stall, Ava walked through the restroom door. “Hey, you were gone awhile. Is everything okay?”

Charlie, washing her hands, stared straight ahead and hoped Ava couldn’t tell she’d been crying.  “Yep, just finishing up.”

“Charlie, I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I could tell something was up back at the table. Do you want to talk about it?”

Charlie was mortified. “No, I’m so sorry. This was a big moment for you, and the last thing I wanted to do was make it about me. I’m really not that girl. I don’t know what came over me. Just give me a minute, and I’ll be back out.”

Ava took a towel from the dispenser and handed it to Charlie. “I’m not the type of friend who needs things to be all about me either, so spill it.”

Ava’s tone eased Charlie’s mood just enough to make her feel comfortable opening up. “I’m happy for you and Drake, I really am. It’s just that your engagement announcement suddenly made me doubt what Bryce and I have. We’ve been together two years and marriage hasn’t even come up.”

“Girl, I’ve seen the way Bryce looks at you. He’s not going anywhere. We aren’t all on the same timeline, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I suppose that’s true.” The logical side of Charlie’s brain knew Ava’s was right, and she hoped the emotional side would soon follow. It was at least appeased enought to put this to rest for now.  She looked in the mirror and cringed. “I just need to fix my face, and then I’ll be out.”

Ava fished a makeup wipe from her purse. “Let me help.” She wiped the black streaks from Charlie’s face and then pulled out a small cosmetic bag. “Just a little eye liner and fresh mascara and you’ll be good to go.”

Once Ava finished, Charlie inspected her work. “Wow, can you do my make-up every day? I don’t even know how to properly apply eyeliner.”

Ava laughed. “Better yet, I’ll teach you. We’ll plan a spa night soon.” 

Charlie hugged Ava. “Thank you. And again, I’m sorry.”

“No worries.” Ava pulled away with a smile. “Now let’s get back out there before the guys think we’re attempting a dine and dash.”

Despite a moment of awkward conversation when the woman got back to the table, the rest of dinner went off without a hitch. Charlie’s face hurt from laughing so much.

“Wait,” Drake furrowed his eyebrows, “So you work at the same hospital, but you met in a strip club?”

“It’s a long story,” Bryce began, “but basically I worked as a stripper to pay my way through med school. Charlie saw me and thought I was so hot, she asked for a private lap dance. My moves were incredible and she just had to have me. She asked me to be her plus one at her cousin’s wedding in Jamaica, and the rest is history.”

“Oh God, Bryce” Charlie rolled her eyes. “That’s not exactly what happened. My friends secretly bought me the lap dance, and I begrudgingly went. I was desperate not to show up to my cousin’s wedding alone and drunk enough to come up with a ridiculous plan, so we made a business deal for him to be my fake boyfriend. However, we failed at the fake part, and he turned into my real boyfriend.”    

“Woah… I think I need to be drunk to understand this story.” Drake raised his glass in jest. “Waiter?!.. Brian?! I need a refill!”

—

Charlie kicked off her shoes and flopped on one end of the couch, while Bryce sat on the other. “I don’t know why I always torture myself with heels. Can you give me a foot rub?” She placed her feet in Bryce’s lap.

“Babe, I’m a surgeon, not a podiatrist.”

“Ha ha, very funny.” She flicked him lightly on the chin with her big toe.

“Ah! Fine, as long as you keep your feet out of my face.” Bryce took her right foot in his hands and started rubbing rhythmic circles with his thumbs on her sole.

“Mmmm,” Charlie hummed in relief. “You sure you don’t have a foot fetish?”

“Negative, but getting my hands on you anywhere is a good place to start.” Bryce had that gleam in his eyes that said he had a plan, and Charlie would be powerless to stop it - not that she would want to.

“Start what?” She played coy.

“Well…” He walked his fingers upward. “Your calves are probably a little tight too, so those clearly need to be massaged."

"Clearly." Charlie echoed.

"And then, since I'm already this far…" Bryce began to slide his hand under the skirt of her dress.

"Hold up." She slapped her hand on top of his. "Don't you think you're moving a little too fast? You haven't even done the other foot yet." She smugly placed his hand on her left foot. Of course she wanted him as much as he seemed to want her, but it was even more satisfying when she made him wait.

"Speaking of moving too fast," Bryce said as he kneaded the bottom of her foot, "I'm kind of surprised Drake and Ava got engaged after only knowing each other for six months."

"Oh really? Back at the restaurant it seemed you were all for it."

"Well, I don't know them well enough to really judge," Bryce backpedaled. "They do seem like one of those 'opposites attract' type couples that just works, so maybe it is like Ava said, 'When you know, you know.' I just couldn't imagine being ready to marry someone so soon."

Charlie sat upright, pulling her knees in toward her chest and hugging them tight as all the hurt and uncertainty she felt at the restaurant flooded back.  "Apparently so. We've been together two years and you're not even sure if you want to commit to me after all this time. I guess in my case you still don't know if I'm the one. Maybe that means I'm not."

"Charlie…" Bryce's near perma-smile transformed to a frown. "I never said that. Would I have moved in with you if I had any doubts?"

"I don’t know, Bryce. Maybe you just want to test everything out before you commit because you aren't sure. If you don't know by now, when will you know? Five years? Ten?"

"Babe, he inched closer and placed a hand on her knee, "where is all this coming from? Okay, wrong question since I'm pretty sure where, but not exactly why. I don't think you've ever brought up marriage before."

"I guess seeing Drake and Ava just made me think, what are we waiting for? Yes six months is pretty quick, but lots of people get engaged after a year and we're at double that. We live together, we're both becoming established in our careers, we love each other…Making it official just makes sense."

Bryce looked her in the eyes intently. "I love you, and as far as I can see, my future includes you. I don't need a piece of paper to prove that."

"Does that mean you'll never want to get married?" Charlie was still reeling. 

"I'm not saying that, but you know how things turned out with my parents. I just… I'm afraid of repeating the same mistakes. That may sound like a cop out, but I just need time, and I'll know…we'll know when it's right. Things are going so well right now, why rush to change that?"

Bryce had a point, and Charlie recognized her perception of the situation was colored by her past as much as Bryce’s was by his. The way her ex Andrew left her just as they were planning a future together made her a little more anxious to make things official this time. But would rushing to marry Andrew have really changed anything? He'd probably still have left her for another woman, and then they'd have a messy divorce to contend with. She had to remind herself that Bryce was nothing like Andrew. Even without a formal commitment, her relationship with him was progressing at a perfect pace. 

"You're right." Charlie inched closer to Bryce and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for getting all in my head again. You know how I can spiral sometimes."

"And that's why I'm here to keep reminding you what a wonderful, loveable, and strong woman you are. But in case you need more than words to convince you," Bryce hopped off the couch and then pulled her up with him, "follow me to the bedroom and I’ll show you too."

[zigtheeortega]

sat on this commission for a couple weeks and i’m so excited i finally get to share it – thank you to @kingkangs for this gorgeous bryce piece in his vegas fit !!! this is my fav bryce look now – thank you for making this a reality !!!

[mvalentine]

i am still mentally recovering from that sex scene but….. god. this scene. this fucking scene. i am so unwell i literally have 0 coherent thoughts right now.

[hongism]

210917 keep it all | florid, | my aurora

[choices-binglebonkus]

Shit PB adds to a story ✨ just because ✨

-Dead parent

-Transcendentally shitty parent

-Parent who serves no role in the story

-“Shocking” betrayal

-Generic unimpressive white male love interest who looks like all the others

-Random annoying child we’re forced to care about

-“eXcLuSiVe DiAmOnD sCeNe”

-Walking Wardrobe™️ female LI

-Unnecessary diamond outfits

-Questionable diamond outfits

-Bland, unimpressive love interest the MC thinks is the greatest thing since sliced bread

-Gratuitous sex scenes with said bland, unimpressive love interest

-ILB MC, OPH MC, BB MC, or NB MC with *one* new face thrown in if they’re feeling spicy 🥵

-“let’s have a party to unwind!” X 4

-DESIRE DESIRE DESIRE DESIRE DESIRE DE-

-F!MCs who have no personality whatsoever

-*eyes darken*

-1 edgy, rebellious, cynical loner LI (usually male) and 1 kind, shy, demure LI (usually female)

-Maybe a love interest from the BFF trope if they’re feeling daring

-*wears same outfit everyday* “Omg MC, you can’t go out like THAT!”

-Hideous free outfits to force us to go diamond

-Hideous free hairstyles

-Okay let’s be honest, hideous diamond hairstyles too

-Collectibles OUT THE ASS 😮‍💨

-Unnecessary flashbacks

-Unnecessary “play as this character!” diamond scenes

-Toxic, deeply problematic relationships portrayed as normal and desirable for days

-Wow! This dead character they mentioned was actually alive the whole time! INCREDIBLE!

-Obligatory female antagonist (usually a woman of color) who isn’t actually that bad, but PB needs to pit women against women somehow, y’hear???

-I know we just met five minutes ago but I desire you more than anything else in my entire life. You are everything. Here are my keys. Come to my house and fuck me right away. Don’t forget the engagement ring.

-The side character we aren’t supposed to care about, but they’re the best damn character in the story MWAH MWAH LOVE YOU CARTER MWAH MWAH LOVE YOU GARY GARRISON

-The side character we ARE supposed to care about but hate with a burning passion

-*female antagonist turns on her heel and struts away in a huff*

-Reused characters with fucked up character models

-The MC who never learned how to mind their own goddamn business

-Sup, here, have another CEO love interest. No need to thank me

-The one love interest who tries to come across as sexy but really just comes across as super fucking creepy oh my god BACK OFF I HAVE PEPPER SPRAY

-The one Black love interest who is actually the most decent love interest we’ve had in ages, yet the fandom tears them apart

-Male-coded GOC love interests

-That single customizable love interest you’re forced into a romance with…whether you want it or not

-Paywalls 🤑🤑🤢

-Cheesy one-liners from an abandoned Wattpad fic

-Really unnatural conversations you’d probably never have in real life

-Non-compelling cliffhangers

-That one really killer outfit that unfortunately has no other impact on the story

-Super uncomfortable art scenes 🫣

-Oh look they reused the Robin sprite…again. Maybe he’ll be a good guy this time 🤡

-Petty conflicts that last far too long

-Set up Unimportant Side Character 1 and Unimportant Side Character 2 for diamonds

-The unobtainable side character you’d do anything to romance

-The fabled *free* backstory

[the-broken-truth]

Lady dimitrescu s/o bonding with the daughters?🙍‍♂️

(Ex: giving cassandra fighting/hunting tips)

Broken Truth: A Little Father-Daughter Bonding Time? Let's get writing!

- Bela Dimitrescu -

"Here, Bela." A deep voice called out as a buff hand held out a white hard-cover book with the title 'Creatures of Greek Mythology. Bela looked up from the book she was reading, locking eyes with the only male of Castle Dimitrescu that wasn't turned into wine or dinner - [Y/N] [L/N], Husband of Alcina Dimitrescu & Step-Father of the Dimitrescu Sisters.

"What's this, Father?" Bela asked as she placed her bookmark in her place before closing the book in her lap and took the book from her step-father's hands and looked at it closely.

"I noticed that you are fond of books that regarded Ancient Civilizations & Unknown Creatures. This is a book I've had since I was a child living in Greece (The Reader is Greek in this case)." The man exhaled as he took a seat in the chair beside the blonde-haired girl.

"Your book?" Bela looked at the book again before looking at her step-father. "Then this must be important to you, Father. Why would you give me this?" Shee asked.

"My mother told me that I would have a family of my own someday and I would want to give them my most prized possession - that book was the last thing my father gave to me before I never saw him again. I have read it more than 1,000 times by now; I'm sure Athena would be annoyed with me if I read it again." He explained.

"Who's Athena?" Bela asked.

"She's the Greek Goddess of Reason, Wisdom, & War." He said.

"DID SOMEONE SAY WAR?!" Cassandra's voice echoed in the room.

"There is no war, Cass!" [Y/N] yelled back.

"But, I heard war!" Cass retorted.

"Then go read a book about war!" the man replied.

"Reading about war!" Cass confirmed.

"She likes war, now." [Y/N] said as he looked back at Bela.

"Wait - If Athena is the Goddess of Reason, why is she also the Goddess of War?" Bela questioned.

"Well, she's not the official Goddess of War - that title belongs to Ares, The God of War. He and Athena kinda have a bit of a... sibling rivalry going around about that since most of Athena Followers see her strategy about war more successful than Ares' - they call her the Goddess of War." [Y/N] explained.

"They're siblings?" Bela's eyebrow rose.

"Half-Siblings: They have the same father but different mothers." The man corrected.

"Who is their father then?" Bela asked.

"That would be the King of all the Gods - Zeus, God of Lightning & King of Olympus." He said.

"Olympus?" Bela questioned.

"The Realm of the Gods." The father said.

"THERE ARE OTHER GODS?!" Bela questioned as the man chuckled to himself.

'This is going to be a long night.'

Sure enough, it was - Bela constantly asked questions with everything her father said, even at the dinner table - she wanted to know more. The man just chuckled as he chewed on his steak while his wife gave him a glare that said...

'What have you done?'

- Cassandra Dimitrescu -

"Whoa! Oph!" Cassandra landed face-first on the floor of her step-father's training room, once again parried against and sent face-first into the ground.

"I've told you once and I'll tell you again, Cass; you can't overthink when in a fight, it gives your opponent time to get you when you're distracted in your thoughts." [Y/N] said as he rolled his wrist, letting it pop before placing it on his hip.

"I don't get how you do it, Papa." Cassandra groaned as she picked herself off the ground and turned to face her father. "You move too fast for me to keep up."

"I move fast because I don't think - I let my body move for me." He said with folded arms.

"What do you mean? Bela told me that the brain controls all movement so how can you move if you don't think about it?" Cassandra asked.

"Have you ever heard of instinct, child?" He asked.

"You mean while those animals?" Cassandra asked.

"Not like that. Allow me to put it like this - has your body ever suddenly stopped, for now, reason just in time for something to almost hit you or you almost trip on something?" The father asked.

"Ummm. Once - Dani got mad a threw a knife but I stopped walking just in time for the knife to hit the wall in front of me." She remembered.

"That's what I am talking about - you were mindlessly walking and your body stopped just in time before the knife hit you. Your body sensed danger and stopped to keep itself from getting hurt." [Y/N] explained.

"So...if I don't think and I'm attacked - my body will react on its own and stop itself from getting hurt?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes. The body knows it needs to be protected and will not let anything hurt it but overthinking can cancel that instinct and you get hurt in the process." He explained.

"Oh...Can we try again?" Cass asked.

"Not tonight, little bug. We can try after breakfast in the morning. Deal?" He said as he rose to his feet.

"Deal, Papa." Cassandra smiled at her father figure - she was happy her mother chose him.

- Daniela Dimitrescu -

"Daddy? What's that in your hand?" Dani asked as she looked over at the small glowing box in her father's hand.

"This? It's my Smartphone." [Y/N] said as he looked up from his phone.

"Smartphone? So, it knows stuff?" The girl asked with a tilt of her head - she looked like a confused red-haired cat. "Well, it does if it's connected to the internet - that's why I got the Wi-Fi Box set up in the study." He said.

"Wi-Fi?"

"It's Wireless Internet."

"What's Internet?"

"The...World Wide Network - you can do almost anything on the internet. You can buy things, watch videos, play games, or whatever you want."

"Can I torture people on it?" Dani asked.

"Well...you could but I don't think you should." Her father said.

"How can I use the internet?" Dani asked.

"You need a piece of Smart Tech - Like a smartphone, a computer, or a smart TV."

"How do I get one?" She asked.

"I'll order some for you and your sisters, I have one for your mother already coming."

A Few Months Later - Dani became the mistress of the internet and then asked her father for a PS4 for her birthday. At night, you can still hear the wild cackling of the witch who devoured the souls of noobs in Call of Duty.

- The Dimitrescu Sisters + Alcina Has Had Enough! -

"Let him go! Father is going to tell me more about Greece!" Bela yelled as she pulled on her father's right arm.

"No! Papa and I are going to train so that I can master my Ultra Instinct!" Cassandra said as she pulled her father's left arm.

"As if! Daddy and I are going to play Call of Duty together! There's a team who wants to go against us and I need Daddy to help me crush their souls!" Dani yanked on her father's foot.

[Y/N]'s teeth locked in pain as he was being pulled apart by his daughters - he was happy they wanted to spend time with him but this was painful.

"That's enough!" He was suddenly yanked upward from them - they all looked up to see their mother with her husband's head buried into her chest.

"Give Father/Papa/Daddy back!" The sisters demanded.

"No! Listen here, you little gremlins, I haven't been able to spend time with my own husband because of you and your hobbies. You can do what you want alone because I have going to have my husband to myself if it's the last thing I do" Alcina said as she marched off with her husband slowly suffocating in her breasts.

[txemrn]

No pressure but can you share a Six Sentance Sunday please?? Love ya Em!!!!

Hey, anon! Thanks for the very kind ask! I have a few WIPs I'm working on right now that I'm excited to share with y'all. I hope you enjoy these snippets!

Thanks for the love and support! Means more than you know! 🥰

HOLLER, Rule 2: You Can Never Drink of Do Drugs (TRR)

“You think maybe that’s why Katie asked you to move out?”

Leo scoffs. “Are we seriously going to talk about this again?”

“Leo,” Liam sardonically titters, “that’s the whole reason you flew out here–”

“Well, yeah,” he lowers his voice, “and to help you with your little council problem–”

Liam grows stoic. He presses a finger to his lips, his crystal blue eyes piercing into his brother. He lowers his voice, his tone rough. “That stays between us, you understand?” Leo curtly nods in understanding, a mischievous grin slowly growing across his face.

~🖤~

Boughs & Mockingbirds, Chapter 8 (TRR/TRH)

Liam carefully opens his swollen eyes. Holding his aching head, he peers through his fingers, taking in the disarray of his wife’s hospital room. Empty syringes and medicine vials litter the floor. Furniture is tossed chaotically against the wall. Bags of fluid and blood that were once feeding into Riley’s veins now hang desolate in the air on metal poles. In the darkness, it looks like a post-apocalyptic scene from a horror movie.

But, for Liam: wasn’t it?

~🖤~

Ricochet, Part IV (OPH)

She cracks her neck while gently stretching her fingers and joints from the arduous two-hour surgery. As a roar of congratulatory applause consumes the operating room, she leans her head back, basking in the bright lights of the surgical suite. But as the cheers become louder from the surgical staff, a wave of emotion envelopes Tatum, time coming to a halt. The moment is glorious, one that is absolutely breath-taking. But it's not because of what she did. The blonde keenly listens before meticulously surveying the room with her bright, tear-soaked eyes.

Where is it? God, where is it? Please–?

~🖤~

I know it's late, but does anyone want to share? Pretty, pretty please? Tagging a few folks! @kat-tia801 @burnsoslow @ao719 @charlotteg234 @sfb123 @queenrileyrose @aussiegurl1234 @karahalloway @peonierose and whoever else wants to give a little snippet!

[storyofmychoices]

Welcome Home, Jovie!

[Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley Masterlist]

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Olivia Hadley (OC) Other Characters: Keiki Lahela, animal shelter volunteer Book: Open Heart  Rating/Warning: General *Fluff*; brief mention to animal neglect Word Count: ~1,450 Prompt: Mango: @choicesaugustchallenge ; @choicesbookclub OPH Book 2

Synopsis: Olivia, Bryce, and Keiki head to a local animal shelter to rescue a pup and give him or her their fur-ever home.

A/N: I had every intention of giving these three a bunny, but #TeamDoggo won the vote.

"I still think we should get a hedgehog." Keiki crossed her arms as she got out of the car.

"I can't help it if people like dogs best," Bryce gloated, pleased that his Pictagram post had received the most likes and comments, cementing the choice for their future pet. "Besides, what would you even do with a hedgehog?"

"Take adorable photos," Keiki interjected. "Did you even look at the recent ones I sent you? They made him a little tent and set up a campsite for him. It's the most adorable thing ever! Think of all the precious photoshoots we could have!"

"No."

Oliva's lips pressed together in sympathy, wrapping her arm around Keiki's shoulder supportively. "They really were adorable. Maybe one day."

"I guess," she sighed, her posture slumping. Her eyes widened, turning her attention to Bryce. "It's just that... after you left, I was all alone." Her voice dropped somberly. "I didn't have anyone to talk to or play with—it was just me. I had to pretend a lot. Looking at all the cute hedgehog pictures gave me something to hold on to with the hope that one day I could have one of my own. Since owning a hedgehog in Hawaii is illegal, I thought here my dream could finally come true."

His face softened, taking in his sister's requests.

"I guess some dreams are meant to be broken." She sniffled, wiping away a single tear, and then turned into Olivia.

"Bryce!" Olivia appealed, gesturing to his crying sister in her arms.

He exhaled noisily, running his fingers through his hair. It was the least he could do to make up for leaving her all those years ago. "Ughhh. Fine. If it means that much to you, then maybe we can—"

"Oh my god, really?!" She turned quickly, her tone rising instantaneously.

His gaze narrowed on her overly cheerful appearance and noticeable lack of tears. "Wait. Did you just make that up?"

"What? No! Why would I do that?" She rambled defensively.

"You were this close!" He held out his fingers to demonstrate. "Close, but not close enough, Keiks. Now, let's go meet our new dog!" Bryce moved eagerly toward the shelter.

"Did you really make it up?" Olivia lowered her voice as she and Keiki followed closely behind.

"I might have embellished and taken some creative liberties." She shrugged. "It was worth a try."

"Have you considered auditioning for the school play?" Olivia looked at her in bewilderment.

Keiki's lips turned up, and her face brightened. "It's crossed my mind."

"A dog will be fun!" Olivia nudged her cheerfully. "And don't forget, we still all get a say in which dog we adopt. You might just find one you love!"

The three had researched nearby shelters and looked online for available dogs. There were too many choices, so they settled on some criteria to help narrow their search. Despite the adorability factor of puppies, they decided a puppy needs more time, attention, and training than they currently have to give. They also limited their search to small and medium dog breeds. Big dogs are floofy and fun but need more room than is available in their apartment. With this focus, they found an animal shelter just outside of Boston that had several potential matches.

Despite all three of them initially wanting different types of pets, the moment they entered the shelter, they were like kids in a candy store. Olivia and Keiki cooed merrily at each pup they saw, their eyes growing impossibly large, taking in all the adorableness around them. The rounds of affection pleased each of the pets they greeted, happy to have attention. Bryce's eyes glowed as he moved more thoughtfully and purposefully, looking for just the right surfing companion.

"Aww!" Olivia fell to her knees beside a cage with a scrappy, tan dog. "You're so cute!"

The two-year-old mutt tilted its head to the side, looking up at her.

"Keiki! Over here! Look at this sweet girl!" Olivia covered her mouth as her eyes grew wider. Her tone quickly shifted as she cooed at the curious canine. "Yes, that's you. You're a sweet girl, aren't you, Mango."

The dog yipped in response, her tongue hanging out to the side of her mouth as she panted contentedly.

"Ohmygosh! She's adorable!" Keiki knelt beside Olivia, putting her hand up to the metal bars. A smile grew across her features as the dog licked her fingers.

"Aww," the two girls sounded in unison. Their high-pitched cheer brought Bryce to their side.

"What even is it?" His brow arched at the smallish-medium dog.

Olivia gestured to the sign attached to the corner of the cage. "It says Mango is a spaniel mix/breed unknown."

His lips pursed, not as taken by the dog as them. "I don't know."

Before he could protest further, one of the shelter volunteers was beside them. "She's a great choice! Mango came to us a couple of months ago from unfortunate living conditions. She had been neglected and was malnourished. But, she's a trooper. She's recovered wonderfully. Would you like to meet her?"

"Yes!" Olivia blurted out. Her teeth showing as she smiled brightly. "I mean—yes, please. Thank you." She breathed, trying to contain her enthusiasm.

"Come on, girl," the volunteer directed as he opened the cage door.

The honey-colored dog poked its head out apprehensively, sniffing the air cautiously.

Bryce sat beside his sister, holding his hand out for the dog.

"It's okay," Keiki offered.

Mango inched her way forward, looking between the humans staring at her. Her head tilted to the side, her tail wagging tentatively as they continued speaking quietly to her. Feeling more courageous, the pup bounced up, hopping into Olivia's lap.

She roared with laughter, her head falling back as the eager dog licked her cheek.

"Liv! She loves you!!!" Keiki gently ran her fingers down the dog's back, moving closer.

As if on cue, Mango turned her attention to Keiki, looking to offer her affection to the next human. "She's amazing!"

Bryce tried to keep a straight face, but as Mango made her round to him, his face softened.

She dropped down playfully in front of him. Her front paws fell low to the ground as her hindquarters raised; her tail swooshed happily in the air.

"What? You want to play?" His voice was light as he leaned down to her.

Mango barked and spun around in a circle before resuming her jovial stance.

He slid his hands down her back, capturing her vibrating tail.

She followed his movements, barking and turning to try to catch him.

Olivia's squeal of excitement pulled his attention from the dog. "You love her, too!"

He sighed half-heartedly. "Do I even have a choice?"

Olivia turned toward Keiki; their matching smiles showed they had already made their decision. "Technically, yes, but since there are two of us, and one of you... there's no point."

"We're really going to adopt a dog named Mango?"

"Why not?" Keiki defended. "They're delicious!"

"Exactly! They're a fruit! Not a dog," he insisted.

"We named her Mango. She didn't come with a name," the worker interrupted. "When she first arrived, one of the things we found she loved most was mangoes. That little girl couldn't get enough of them."

"See! There's a good reason," Keiki argued. "It's fine. You'll get used to it."

"If the name is troubling you, should you adopt her, you could change her name," the volunteer suggested.

"That won't confuse her?" Bryce questioned.

"Dogs are resilient and highly intelligent. Many of our adoptees end up with new names. Dogs of any age can learn a new name in as little as a few days to a week."

"Hmm," Bryce considered.

"Belle?" Olivia suggested immediately.

"Honey?" Keiki offered quickly.

"Princess."

"Sweetie."

"Fluffy."

"Snookums"

"Smushie!"

"Mr. Fluffikins!"

"It's a girl," Bryce interrupted the girl's back and forth.

Keiki shrugged. "I stand by the suggestion."

Olivia watched as the dog pranced between the three of them, her body fluttering with joy under their attention. "What about Jovie?"

"Like Bon Jovi?" Bryce questioned.

"No, Jovie, like jovial. She's so cheerful despite everything that she's been through. She hasn't let her bring her down."

"Aww! That's adorable, Liv!" Keiki agreed. "I like it. She'll bring us all joy too."

"Is this going to be a thing now? I'm continuously outvoted?" Bryce grumbled apathetically, feigning protest.

"Well, you are going to be living with three girls," Olivia smirked. "I'd get used to it if I were you."

His gaze narrowed toward her, as she winked in reply. There were certainly worse things to happen than being surrounded by three females that he happened to adore.

The decision had been made.

"Welcome Home, Jovie." Olivia scooped the dog in her arms, letting the affectionate pup pepper her face in kisses.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story. Tags will be in a reblog, please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

A/N2: Holland Roden is my Olivia face claim; her dog Fievel will be Jovie's face claim.

[bex-la-get]

A Second Chance (Ethan x f!MC)

Book: Open Heart, Book 2

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Natalie Cusack

Word count: 2175

Summary: While the hospital reels from the assassination attempt, Ethan gets his miracle. Sequel to What If...

Author’s Note: So @adiehardfan​​ asked if there would be a part 2 to What If and at the time, I wasn’t sure but this came to me the other day and I thought this would be the perfect sequel piece after I ripped your hearts out (sorry about that, by the way). Enjoy! 😘

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. Nor do I remember the specifics from Chapters 10/11 in OPH Book 2. Any and all mistakes are my own. Thank you.

Please, he pleaded silently. Let her live. We have so much lost time to catch up on. Please. Let. Her. Live.

Ethan watched Natalie breath, her chest moving slowly as it rose up and down. He could tell she was struggling, growing weaker by the moment; but he could also see that she was fighting it. Fighting to get oxygen to her lungs, fighting to make it until morning, fighting to stay alive. He brushed some loose hair behind her ear and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of her breathing and silently praying that the combined efforts of Edenbrook and Mass Ken would be enough to save her.

He didn’t sleep that night. Too concerned of what might happen if he closed his eyes, Ethan stayed awake through the whole night, watching Natalie’s breathing and monitoring her vitals. He briefly stepped out of the room to splash some water on his face and wipe away the stray tears that were still sliding down his cheeks but that was the farthest he would be away from her. He refused to leave the room otherwise.

At around 3am, Harper and Naveen arrived with a couple and a young man; Ethan could only assume these were Natalie’s parents and brother.

“Ethan,” Naveen said on the other side of the door, “Dr. Cusack’s family is here.

Ethan nodded, stepped out of the room, and quickly changed out of the hazmat suit to speak with them; he stayed close to the entrance, however, and kept an ear out for the systems monitoring Nat’s vitals. He didn’t want to miss anything crucial while out of the room.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cusack, I’m Doctor Ramsey. It’s good to meet you, though I wish it were under different circumstances.”

The Cusacks shook his extended hand and he turned to Natalie’s brother, greeting him as her mother, Julie, spoke. “Likewise, Doctor. Is there any update?” Her green eyes were filled with concern and worry and Ethan’s heart tightened.

“Not at the moment, I’m afraid. But we have a team working around the clock on a cure; some of the best doctors in the country are working to help your daughter,” Ethan answered.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Vic, as he had introduced himself, asked.

Naveen shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not; but thank you for offering.”

Vic’s shoulders deflated somewhat and his father wrapped an arm around him. “Thank you for watching over her, Doctor Ramsey,” Elias said, his voice quiet. 

Ethan nodded. “She would do the same for me; for any of us.”

Elias smiled sadly. “That’s just like my Nattie.”

Julie sniffled and gazed at her daughter through the window, her eyes wet with unshed tears; Harper laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t we wait in my office? You’ll be comfortable there and it’s close by so we’ll know when there’s updates.” Julie nodded in agreement and the Cusack family quietly said their goodbyes, following Harper down the hall.

Naveen rested a reassuring hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “How are you doing, my boy?”

Ethan shook his head and swallowed back a sob. “Not good.”

His mentor gazed at him sadly. “I wish I could reassure that she would be okay, but I cannot in good conscience say such things. But I do want to believe them.”

Ethan nodded and sniffled. “Me too.” He looked back through the window where Natalie was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling with every breath. “I can’t lose her, Naveen,” he said, quietly. “I-- she’s everything to me. I don’t know what I’m going to do if she doesn’t make it.”

Naveen squeezed his shoulder. “We have to believe she will make it, Ethan. Thinking otherwise will only drive us crazy.”

“I know; I just feel so useless. I can’t help with the cure and I can’t do anything for her in the meantime.” Ethan could feel the tears welling up again but he fought against them. Crying wouldn’t help anything right now.

“Being there for her in her hour of need is doing more than you can possibly imagine, Ethan. Trust me.” Naveen paused for a moment before speaking again. “Does she know how you feel?”

Ethan nodded solemnly. “I told her before she fell asleep. I just wish I hadn’t waited so long. I should’ve told her a long time ago, from the moment I knew.”

“We all have things we wish we could have done differently or sooner. The important thing now is that she knows.” Naveen squeezed his shoulder again then stepped away. “Go. Be with her. We’ll let you know when there’s news.”

“Thank you, Naveen,” Ethan said, making his way back into the quarantine area. 

“Ethan,” Naveen said. Ethan turned to his mentor, finding a sad smile on his lips. “Assuming she makes it and they can make a cure, I hope you won’t let her go.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’m never letting her go again,” he said, resolutely.

Naveen nodded and watched as Ethan once again dressed in the hazmat suit before returning to his place at Natalie’s side.

------------------------

It was nearing six am when several members from both the Edenbrook and Mass Ken teams appeared at the window of the hospital room. Ethan’s heart pounded at their appearance, trying not to let his fears get the better of him. Please be good news, please be good news.

“Well?” Ethan asked, his throat going dry.

Tobias looked to Elijah who grinned and held up a small vial in his hand before handing it to Baz. “We did it. We were able to synthesize a cure!”

Ethan barely held back a sob as he watched Baz and June suit up and join him in the room. “What about the EMT? Rafael?”

“He made it through the night,” Tobias confirmed. “He’s being administered his own dose as we speak.”

Ethan nodded, fighting tears. “Thank you,” he said, quietly. “All of you, thank you.”

“She would’ve done the same for any of us,” Elijah said, looking at his sleeping friend sadly. “I just hope we did it in time.”

Baz and June administered the dosage to Nat and Ethan swallowed hard. “Only time will tell.”

--------------------------

“Nat? Natalie. Can you hear me?”

Natalie’s brows furrowed as the familiar voice pulled her out of her deep sleep. 

“Natalie,” the voice said again. “Please Nat, wake up.”

She groaned and slowly blinked her eyes open, squinting through the bright lights of the room. She looked for the source of the voice to find him sitting next to her, a look of worry on his face. “Ethan?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Ethan released a sound that was a mix of a sob and a laugh. “Oh thank god,” he said. 

Her eyes adjusted to the room around her and she realized he wasn’t wearing a hazmat suit. Her eyes widened. “Ethan, you’re-- you look… normal. What--”

“Elijah and the joint teams synthesized a cure,” Ethan said, helping her move to a seated position in the bed. “You’re okay; the toxin is gone, completely.”

Nat took a shaky breath. “And Raf?”

“Also alive and okay, though he was in rough shape by the time his dosage was administered. It’ll take longer for him to recover but he will recover. You both will.”

Natalie felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Does that-- does that mean I can kiss you now?”

He gave her a watery smile and nodded. Without waiting another moment, Natalie pulled Ethan towards her and kissed him soundly. He cupped her face with his hands and returned her kiss with equal fervor, ignoring the tears slipping down both of their cheeks. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips.

She broke away to cough out a sob and buried her face into his shoulder. He held her tightly and kissed the top of her head, letting his own tears fall freely. “I love you too,” she said through sobs. “I was so worried I wasn’t ever going to be able to tell you again.”

“So was I,” he sniffled. “I love you, Nat. I love you so much. I’m never going to let another day go by without telling you that.”

She looked up at him and wiped some tears away from his cheeks. “Us until the end of time, right?”

He smiled and nodded. “Until the end of time.” He sniffled again and placed another soft kiss on her lips. “Your parents and brother are here; they’ll want to see you. Are you up for visitors?”

She thought for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I am.”

“Okay, let me go get them.” He placed one more kiss on her lips, this one lingering for a long moment before he broke away, kissed her forehead, then left the room. Nat adjusted herself in bed so she was sitting up fully then waited for her family to arrive.

Less than five minutes later, her mother practically burst into the room, making a beeline for her daughter. “Oh Nattie,” Julie said, when they locked eyes.

Unable to hold back the tears, Natalie began crying, falling into her mother’s tight embrace. Her brother and father quickly joined the hug, holding onto each other tightly, crying tears of relief and happiness that Natalie was okay. She was safe. She was alive.

Ethan stood outside of the hospital room, taking steadying breaths and trying to control the tears that kept slipping out. He was exhausted and was holding it together just enough so he wouldn’t collapse from relief. He sniffled and ran his hands through his hair, sending a silent thank you to the gods that listened to his previous pleadings.

“Ethan?” a voice said.

He turned to the source to find Tobias looking at him, an inscrutable look on his face. “Tobias, hi.”

“Are you okay?”

Ethan glanced into the hospital room where Nat was giving her family a watery smile and looked back at Tobias. “I am now. I--” he hesitated for a moment, then stepped closer to his old friend. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did. I-- you gave her-- me-- us a second chance. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words how much that means to me. How grateful I am.”

Tobias smiled. “It was my honor to help, Ethan. Natalie’s a good doctor, and an even better person. This world is better with her in it. You’re better with her in it.”

Ethan’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Yeah, I know.”

Tobias rested his hand on Ethan’s shoulder and squeezed. “I know our past has been rocky and this year has had its own struggles and difficulties; but I’ll always be around to help if you need it, Ethan. No rivalry or competition will ever outweigh our duty as doctors… or my loyalty to an old friend.”

Ethan nodded thoughtfully, feeling a twinge of fondness for his old friend and [former?] adversary. “Thank you. And the same stands for me.”

Tobias smiled again and he stepped away. “I have to get back to my own hospital and patients. But I’m glad to see she’s doing better.” He nodded respectfully to Ethan. “See you around, Ramsey.”

“See you around, Carrick.”

As Tobias disappeared around the corner, Ethan looked back through the window to find Natalie gazing at him, a fond smile on her lips. He returned her smile. “I love you,” he mouthed.

Her smile grew and she mouthed “I love you too” back to him. 

His heart thumped in his chest as he locked eyes with her for a long moment before her attention was called back to her parents. He stood outside the room for another moment debating on whether or not he should stay when a new voice caught his attention. “Are you doing okay?”

He looked to the source and smiled at Harper. He nodded. “Yeah; better than okay.”

She smiled. “Good, I’m glad to hear it.” She looked him over and raised an eyebrow. “Did you sleep at all last night?” Ethan shook his head and Harper nodded knowingly, her lips pursed. “I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” she said, smirking. She stepped towards Nat’s room and gestured forward with her chin. “Go clean up; and maybe take a nap while you’re at it. Or at least get some coffee in you; I know you too well to think you’re going to sleep right now. I’ll keep an eye on Nat for you in the meantime.”

He looked down at his rumpled clothing and chuckled. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Thank you, Harper.”

She smiled. “I’m happy to help. And I’m happy to see you happy. It’s a good look for you.”

He chuckled. “I’m just glad I have a reason to be happy.”

“We all are.” She glanced at Nat and smiled. “She’s one of a kind, that one. You hold onto her.”

Ethan gazed back at Natalie and smiled. “I plan to.” Forever.

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[em0avacado]

Pen Pals - Ezekiel Reyes

trigger warning : none other than brief mention of removing someone’s pelvis, wearing maybe.

word count : 2068

Dear Ezekiel,

Her first letter started simple, she wasn’t sure whether to address the inmate more formerly, or of this was fine, but with lack of better knowledge on this, she settled on that. It all started when curiosity got the best of her. She had a friend who would constantly talk about her very own pen pal, she’d talk about the stories theyd tell her, how they were interesting and that they had, in reality, not much better to do with their time in lockup. At first, the young woman was rather skeptical, but after reading some of her friends letters herself, the curiosity started eating her alive from the inside out. Maybe she’d give it a try, what’s the worst that could happen? So, after a few hours of extensive reasearch, she’d picked an inmate and began writing, although, after the first two words of the letter, she was stuck. It wasn’t long until she realized how much time had passed since she’d actually written a letter to someone who wasn’t her grandmother.

With a pen gripped tightly in her hand, the black ink began to spill onto the page as her mind finally came up with things to scribble onto the soft blue lines. The nails of her right hand tapping against the finished wood of her desk, it wasn’t long until she ripped the paper out of the coiled notebook and started over again.

Dear Ezekiel,

My name’s Ophelia, I’m about twenty six years old, and my favourite colour is orange, because it reminds me of orange creamsicles on a hot summers day. Seems childish, I’m aware, but alas, my curiosity only carried me so far. It’s been years since I’ve actually written a letter, let alone made a friend. You see, I’m a very reserved person but i supposed that the only way of really making friends with a pen pal is to start off by introducing myself into a bit more depth than small talk. The friends I do have, they call me Oph, no one really calls me by my first name.

God, she sounded so utterly stupid, she thought, but what else was there to write? Who even knew if this man would write back? No one, no one did. But, can’t be for sure unless she tries, right? right.

However, she went on, writing down anything she could possibly think of that could stark some sort of interest from the man behind bars. She went from how the green on the trees in the spring brought her a specific joy in her heart because when she was younger her father would point out that the green in forests meant that the wild life was happy, healthy, to explaining what the saw was initially invented for. Once her hand began to cramp, she called it a day. Folding the papers together neatly, she shoved them in an envelope and sent it off to the right address before her hesitation stopped her. Now; it was time to wait. And she hated waiting.

Without a real timeline in her head on when she’d hear back from Ezekiel, she waited days, then weeks, at some point, the thought seemed to slip her mind. Heading to work each day, only to head home, check her mail box, head inside, prepare herself for the night and get at least a few hours of sleep before doing it all again the next day. An impossibly boring routine that was disturbed when she found an envelope, with blue in scratched into the front. Reading the name ‘Ezekiel’ within the first few lines of the actual letter, thrilled her. Quickly, she tossed her bag and keys to the side, kicking the door shut behind her, she tore into the envelope and began to read.

Dearest Ophelia

You can tell me absolutely anything you wish to, just from your first letter i can tell that your mind is a place of wonder. If you think anything like you write, I’d love to pick your brain some day, those run on sentences really get a man thinking.

A wide grin spread across her lips, her eyes flit across the pages as she read ever word scribbled onto the lines in blue ink. He told her anything that reflected topics she covered, answering all the questions that she asked, even adding in commentary here and there. He matched the amount she wrote, rambling on just as much as she did.

P.s. were chainsaws really invented to cut open and take out the pelvis of a woman who took too long giving birth?

A cackle rolled passed her lips when she read that very last sentence, and she dove into explaining the history of it once more. Every letter she wrote, would end in a fact so buzzard it was hard to believe. The two went back and forth as fast as time would allow, matching the length of letters, each and every time. Quickly, that ugly blue ink from Ezekiels pen became her favourite colour, replacing the orange colours that she once preferred over all else.

But, all good things do eventually come to an end, for years, they’d go back and forth, writing letters and knowing everything about one another. Occasionally letters were sent with tear stains wrinkling papers from when she poured her heart onto the page, she’d sent a picture of herself once too, one she never got back. Dozens of paper cuts, empty pens and notepads empty, pages torn out and sent. Then, one day, it all just stopped, her last letter never got a response, she waited weeks, but weeks turned to months quickly and she assumed he’d gotten out, it wasn’t worth contacting her anymore now that he was set free into the world once again. It hurt, it shouldn’t have, he was just a pen pal, a friend who wasn’t permanent in the slightest, she knew that, she did, but that bond she thought they developed was broken. Perhaps she got attached, but, for lack of better wording, it sucked.

It was now the middle of December, and Ophelia had planned what she usually did during the holiday season. Nothing. She didn’t have family left, her friends had their own families to attend to, besides, she had just up and moved to a town she was dangerously unfamiliar with. Although, none of that really phased her. On her way home from work, she stopped by the store, a hardcore case of the munchies leading her down chips isle. Humming to herself softly, her eyes scanned the shelves, tossing a bag or two in her basket before strolling down the isle.

A small, white sheet of something, perhaps paper? Swayed to the ground slowly, landing rignt at her feet, with a quirked brow, she leant down and picked it up. The man who dropped it, standing not too far in front of her, didn’t seem to notice that he’s lost it. A man, with a buff figure, broad shoulders, he walked like he’d been constipated for a week now, his phone in hand, which his focused had zeroed in on. She trapped the small paper, which turned out to be a photograph. Ophelia didn’t want to look at it, to respect the mans privacy, but curiosity killed the cat, right?

The photo, she immediately recognized the bright red hair, the pearly white smile, the mess on the pale skin and the beaming green eyes. That was her, the photo? it was the one she sent to Ezekiel all those years ago, when they first started talking. But why did this man have it? With confusion, she rushed forward, tapping the man on his shoulder “excuse me -“ she started, but her words caught in her throat when he turned around, it was him. he looked like he did in the pictures on the sight, the one he sent her, just slightly older, his hair had a tight trim, he had a few more stress lines than the picture did.

The basket tucked under her arm just moments ago, hit the ground with a crash. Her eyes went wide, her skin paled. Ophelia looked like she’d just seen a ghost, Ez mimicking the shock on his own features. “you- i-“ she managed to get out, forcing her mouth shut.

A nervous chuckle came from Ez, paired with a weak “O- hey.” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

She raised her fist and punched him in the bicep “what the fuck?!” she asked, her shock replaced by anger as she waved the photo in front of him. “really?! I thought we were cool, friends? even? you said I was one of the best friends you’d ever made and I don’t even get as much as a ‘oh hey Ophelia I’m getting out talk to you never!’ ?! and you just carry my picture around like a creep?” she asked, pushing it against his chest and crossing her arms over her own. “well?”

“Listen, I’m sorry.” he said, looking for ways to explain himself, why he hadn’t kept in touch, any sort of excuse but there was nothing, truth was, he had wanted to stay in contact but everything with the club, and the deal, and pops got in the way, so it kept getting pushed back. “it was a dick move and I’m sorry.” he said, looking down at her.

“yeah no fucking shit.” she spoke, her arms still crossed over her chest, her glare burrowing holes into his head. She opened her mouth, ready to add more onto what was already said to him, but in that moment someone in a kutte that nearly matched his own, rounded the corner, ready to speak to Ez until her glare shifted from him to the slightly taller man, his green flannel buttoned up, chains clanging together.

“Hey boy sco-“ he stopped mid sentence, not taking another step, he narrowed his eyes at her, looking between her, and his brother, a smile came to his lips in realization “oh shit.” he laughed “you can deal with angry fire crotch on your own, I’ll wait outside.” he laughed, heading out and leaving the two alone again.

“Angel?” she asked, he looked exactly like Ez would explain in his letters, nodding his head, she furrowed her brows slightly and leaned down, picking her basket up again, hanging it in the crease of her elbow. “Look I get it, you got out, had better things to do, I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me but come on? We spoke for years, we bonded, or so I thought? Feels ridiculous now, but, hey, I hope that your life treats you better than it has, I’ll see you around.” she said, nodding her head at him, turning to head to the till when she felt his hand on her arm, spinning her around.

“I looked for you.” he started “not nearly hard enough but they never gave away your address, nothing, which was smart but I did look for you, where I could.” he confessed “not once did I forget about you, Ophelia, I couldn’t.” he dropped his arm when she stood, looking up at him.

“I know. Duh. Your memory is like- permanent.” she said, and he nearly rolled his eyes.

“okay smart ass that’s not what I meant.” he groaned. “you’re unforgettable, even if I could forget, I couldn’t.”

“you’re much smoother on paper” she added another little side note.

“Ophelia.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyways, that picture was the only that allowed me to feel a sense of home as of lately, and would be the only thing that did until i found you. That’s why I kept it.” he told her, her gaze softening. “Now that i have, found you, i won’t let you get away again.”

“sounds kidnap - y.” she muttered, interrupting him. He dropped his hands, slapping against his thighs with a soft sight, he shot her a glare.

“Ophelia I swear to god i’m trying to confess my feelings right now could you put a pause on that for a moment?” he asked her, raising a brow.

“no.” she said simply, scratching her nose. “don’t confess your undying love for me in the middle of a grocery store, please. That old lady has been listening and eyeing you this whole time.”

[quesadillabitch]

predictions for the (next???) oph chapter with ines’s wedding:

- for some reason bloom is there???? go away

- he is sad because the wedding reminds him of his and his wife’s, and how much he longs to be with her again. this rare moment of potential character complexity is ruined when he spots a potential investor and runs off to network

- ethan gets the first and longest diamond scene, in which he whinges on more about bloom and hospital issues despite the fact that mc n co. are there to celebrate a wedding.... god forbid we leave this shit behind for ONE chapter 🙄

- romantic/flirtatious dialogue and implication occur between ethan and mc because Wedding(tm) regardless of whether you’ve romanced him or not (i.e.: a random attendee will make a comment about how they look good together, mc is told “you’re next!!!”, ethan glancing over at mc during the vows, god forbid we have to dance with this fucker)

- medical emergency at the wedding, someone is going into anaphylactic shock after eating ceviche or smthn, ethan of course saves the day because he is just so great and wonderful and spectacular and he’s daddy pb’s very special boy

- bryce, despite being in a chapter that has heaps of potential for meaningful character growth and interaction for/with him, will disappear at the beginning of the chapter after mc n co. arrive in hawaii after receiving a rando phone call from his parents

- the majority, if not all, of bryce’s family drama will occur off-screen with barely any involvement from the mc, except for some banal texts they send him encouraging him to reconcile

- bryce appears near the very end of the chapter, tells us that his family situation has been miraculously resolved, and then in a short and very tonally bizarre diamond scene, he will invite mc to play jenga on the beach. nothing about his interpersonal struggles will be discussed or given any nuance, but he will make sure to tell mc how good of a Friend they are at least twice

- jackie is not seen until the wedding reception, in which we do not interact with her (too busy getting harassed by ethan nonstop), but we do hear her make a hi-larious comment about racing sienna to get champagne or cake or whatever. she is not seen at all for the rest of the chapter

- raf...... who is that again?? oh that’s right pb forgot he existed so they have to create some reason for him to not make it to the wedding...... oh wait he can’t go because he’s a physical therapist!!! did you guys forget that he is a physical therapist? well, he is. he’s here to therapize your physical. and ummm oh he has a patient he just HAS to be with all weekend so he couldn’t possibly make time for the wedding, bummer :/ mc understands, of course, and wishes him luck before sparing him nary a thought for the next three to four chapters

- when we get back to the hospital at the end of the chapter, we find out that ethan was absolutely positively correct and elijah’s experimental treatment worked on that one patient so all of his wrongdoing is completely absolved and mc and the rest of the diagnostics team gush about him some more while debasing themselves as idiots who are so sorry they ever doubted him

- another diamond scene to celebrate ethan’s unparalleled genius, and then our suffering ceases until the next abysmal chapter.....

:/

[wheelsup]

Ok here's a concept dad spencer always bringing the baby to sleep with them even if she's not crying. And the reader disapproving because she knows that's the start of a bad habit.

this is 🥺the sweetest thing in the world. big man + tiny baby.

wc: just under 1k cw: spencer reid x fem!reader

-

“You’re encouraging a bad habit, you know,” you sighed as Spencer peeled back the comforter from his side of the bed. For the severalth time that week, with your baby tucked securely in one of his arms, her space-themed sleep onesie matching his pajama bottoms. 

“No I’m not,” he pouted, climbing under the covers after carefully putting her down. “Besides, this little pumpkin isn’t capable of having bad habits.” He ruffled the wispy hairs on her head, earning a high giggle as she squirmed under the sheets between the two of you.

“I’m not talking about her,” you laughed, “I’m talking about you.” Spencer took offense to that.

“I do not have a bad habit,” he gasped, covering her tiny ears with his hands. He couldn’t let her hear those words and believe he was doing something wrong by having her by his side. “She wanted to sleep here. She was crying.” 

“Oh, really? She wanted to?” you raised your brows, leaning your face into his to challenge him. You bet that he couldn’t tell you that again while looking you in the eyes. “Or did you sneak into her room, steal her from her crib and bring her here because you wanted to?”

Spencer, a man of six feet of height, got impossibly small under your all-knowing stare. He sank deeper into the bed, drawing the plush white duvet up to his chin and hiding until all you could see were his eyes. Large, pouty, and full of guilt. 

“I knew it.”

“Come on! She’s only gonna stay this small for so long,” he reasoned. To make his (adorable) case, he grasped one of her legs and gave it a little wiggle, showing you how tiny she still was. And then both of them were giving you an undeniable set of puppy eyes, begging to let her stay. 

“Spencer Walter Reid, you cannot keep pulling her out of her own bed,” you sighed. Your actions said something else as you put one hand over her warm belly and hugged her closer. “One of you is going to take it really hard when she gets old and we can’t do this anymore.”

And though you meant Spencer, truthfully it could be either of them. While Spencer was thoroughly (and overly) attached, so was she. 

She’d notice if he wasn’t home for a day, and cry all the time until she saw his face. If he couldn’t make it happen by picking up a video call, then you’d have to hold up photos of him to trick her into thinking he was there.When he was home, she’d follow him everywhere. Crawling right alongside him while he was folding laundry, curiously peering into the basket, or sitting on the kitchen counter and being his sous-chef (sneaking cheerios from the box) while he cooked (prepared bowls of cereal). 

But Spencer got her accustomed to one habit already, and it was the root of the attachment issue. 

She discovered that, on the nights he was home, he would always be the one to come comfort her when she cried in the middle of the night. (For two reasons: one, he didn’t even have the willpower to try the ‘cry it out’ method, and two, to make up for all the three-a.m’s you’d have to do this while he was gone). 

You were convinced she started timing herself to only cry when he was home. Maybe even fibbed it, a little (a trait she surely learned from him) because as soon as he came to see if she needed anything – a bottle, a diaper change – she’d stop. She’d gotten her end goal the moment he walked into her room, which was just to have him there. 

He’d stay with her as long as she wanted, which would be all night long. After a few nights of accidentally falling asleep in her rocking chair and waking up with back pain, he found it was easier just to bring her into your bed. And she loved it. 

Spencer warmed even more as he watched you play with her, tapping softly on her belly with your fingertips. “See how much you love this?” he smiled, feeling like his case was made on why she should always sleep next to you.  

“You’re gonna make me the bad guy, eventually,” you mumbled, sticking your bottom lip out as you focused on her getting drowsier.

As much as you did love having her with you, you had to be the voice of reason. He was setting a precedent of caving in and you knew it would eventually become a problem right around the time she turned into a toddler. You could picture the tantrums now, and picture him giving in to every little whim of hers, with you ending up as the one who has to say no all the time.  

“Nuh-uh.” He scooped her up and placed her on your chest so you could cradle her. “When she gets older, I’ll stop,” he promised, pressing a kiss onto your temple. 

You chuckled lowly, rolling onto your side with the baby on her back next to you. “No, you won’t.” There’s no way he’d ever be able to resist giving her anything she wanted.  It was cute that he believed he’d even be capable of that.

“Okay, I won’t,” he laughed and shuffled closer, pushing himself flush against your side. He held you the same way you held her, stretching his arm so it spanned over your waist and stopped just over her belly, both of you tucked safely under him. Big spoon, little spoon, littlest spoon. “Is that so bad?” 

Closing your eyes, you hummed playfully as you pretended to think it over. For the severalth time that week, you melted into the bed, wrapped up in the warmth of your little family as you nodded off to sleep. “No,” you sighed, a smile ghosting it’s way across your face, “I guess it’s not.”

-

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[choices-binglebonkus]

Even More Choices Predictions

I haven’t done one of these in a while. Felt bored. Fandom is dead. Oh well. So let’s get into it, shall we?

-First and foremost…Laws of Attraction. Sadie’s going to be the Big Bad as a twist villain (a very good twist villain, might I add). I can’t make any predictions about whether or not it’ll get a sequel, so I’ll be kinda vague here. If it does get a sequel, the series will be the next Open Heart. Book one for both OPH and LOA was amazing, fantastic, all around mind-blowing. That said, it’ll also be complete shit like Open Heart books 2-3.

-The Royal Finale is definitely the end of the Royal series. Pixelberry knows that they’ve milked it to death. Spin-offs, extra series, hell, even a holiday book, this series has reached its end.

-Shipwrecked is going to either be the next Endless Summer or the next Witness. There is NO in between here. Right now, I’m thinking it’ll be more like Witness. Barf.

-TNA’s going to have a book three so Sam can marry MC. Hoo-ray.

-Queen B book two will definitely feature us teaming with Poppy Min-Sinclair to rebuild our rep (booooooo!) and we’ll have to “prove” Kingsley’s “innocence” (BOOOOOOOO!!!) but I have a feeling Zoey will get more screen time (yaaaaaaaaay!), and Carter and Veronica will become love interests (YAAAAAY!). No clue on who the Big Bad is. Maybe Benji, but nothing is concrete.

-Surrender is going to wildly misrepresent the BDSM community and be totally disgraceful. I’m still not done nursing my wounds from the god awful Ethan BDSM scene in OPH. God, I hope they do this right.

-So idk if many of you are aware, but PB has mentioned an untitled Black-led cast book in a couple blogposts. Mentioned on June 15, 2020 for the first time, and mentioned again June 15, 2021. It releases in 2022. This is all we know about it so far, with literally no other information even though it’s been a year since they announced it. Given PB’s completely pitiful track record with racial representation…well, I’m sorry guys. They’re going to do a piss poor job and then pat themselves on the back thinking they did great work while knowingly drowning out the protests of players of color.

-Crimes of Passion, from the info I’ve read, sounds considerably similar to Most Wanted. If that’s the case, what the hell gives? Why make Crimes of Passion when you could just give Most Wanted a book 2, hello??? Anyway, yeah. That’s basically my prediction here. It’ll just be a rehash of Most Wanted.

-Blades of Light and Shadow 2 will definitely be released. I know one of the junior writers left, and yes, that sucks, but PB knows damn well what a moneymaker Blades is. They would not leave us in the lurch, especially after YEARS of preparation and so much original art for book one.

-Wake the Dead is *probably* going to be similar to the Walking Dead. Which, of course, I don’t mind. I love Romero and Kirkman zombies in zombie lore. It’s also probably going to take place at the start of the ZA when society is first crumbling. I mean, it would be a HUGE mistake for PB to not do this, as it provides so much potential for visible character growth and progression. Not to get ahead of myself here, but I’m going to get ahead of myself with these predictions because YOLO. The main character is going to die at the end, either in a very heroic or very selfish way depending on what kind of survivor they became.

-…now that I think about it, I feel like Shipwrecked is going to be the last VIP book for a while. VIP does not seem to be doing well right now.

-Bonus Prediction: TNA is going to get a holiday special. Either a sexy spooky Halloween where Sam and MC fuck in giant banana costumes while Carter once again resumes childcare, or a Christmas special where Sam gives MC a special present, blah blah blah sit on Sam-ta Claus’s lap, blah blah stocking stuffer jokes, blah blah blah it’s gonna be a white Christmas jokes.

[homeformyheart]

holiday bryce - bryce lahela x f!mc (oph)

author’s note: a little ficlet inspired by/to go along with the fanart i commissioned for my choices family potluck event! click here to see giftee info & the art.

copyright: all characters owned by pixelberry studios. series/pairing: open heart – bryce lahela x f!mc (casey valentine) rating/warnings: 14+; fluff but suggestive imagery word count: ~700 based on/prompt: for prompt #10 (characters a and b agreed not to exchange gifts. but a loves the holidays and bought a gift anyway) from @cfwcadm​‘s winter season prompts. summary: even though they agreed on not exchanging gifts for the holidays to save a little money, bryce found a loophole that even casey couldn’t protest.

holiday bryce (aka bryce in a santa hat)

bryce knocked on the door of casey’s apartment with a huge grin on his face. he definitely felt like he outdid himself as he kept his hands, and casey’s surprise, hidden behind his back when she opened the door.

“hey bryce, i wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow but i’m glad you’re here,” she said, leaning in to give him a kiss.

“i figured since all of your roommates headed out for the holidays, you’d have the apartment to yourself… if you know what i mean,” bryce said suggestively, angling himself sideways to keep his hands hidden as he stepped inside the apartment.

casey raised one eyebrow but couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her face. “i always know what you mean, bryce. you’re not subtle about it. would you like eggnog or a hot toddy? i was trying to figure out which one i was more in the mood for.”

bryce was relieved when casey moved past him to get to the kitchen without seeming to notice that his hands were still tucked behind him. “why don’t i have the hot toddy and you have the eggnog, and that way you can try both and decide which one you want more?”

casey couldn’t help but skip over to her boyfriend and wrap her arms around his neck. “you are so thoughtful. what did i do to deserve such an amazing boyfriend?”

he leaned down to give her a deep kiss, coaxing her mouth open slowly so he could savor the way her lips tasted slightly of cinnamon. he placed one hand on her hip, letting his fingers dip beneath the hem of her sweater so it rested on her skin. he was almost distracted enough to not realize that his other hand was moving toward her other hip. but bryce lahela was nothing if not a pro at surprises and quickly caught himself.

“what are you hiding?” casey pulled back to look at him questioningly.

“i’m not hiding anything,” bryce said, giving casey his trademark grin to try to dissuade her.

she gave him a skeptical look and took a step back. “no… you definitely are. you normally put both your hands on my waist when we kiss.”

if bryce’s ego was an organ, it definitely grew three sizes larger. “i didn’t know you were keeping tabs on our makeout sessions.”

casey rolled her eyes. “knock it off bryce and tell me what’s going on.”

bryce gave his best noncommittal shrug as he tried to subtly shift his weight in a way that would angle his back further away from casey. but of course, one of the best and brightest diagnostic interns edenbrook has ever had noticed.

“what is that behind your back?”

“nothing! can i please have a hot toddy? it was really cold outside. unless you’d rather warm me up another way?” bryce joked, hoping casey would take the bait.

casey’s eyes narrowed. “you got a gift, didn’t you? even though we promised not to exchange gifts this year?”

“okay, before you get mad, i’ll have you know that i technically didn’t get you a… separate gift?” he wasn’t really sure how to explain his rationale that buying a santa hat didn’t count as a gift.

“what does that even mean?” bryce knew by the slightly exasperated tone that casey’s patience was wearing thin.

“um, your gift is me?”

“that wasn’t funny when you hid in my closet wearing nothing but a red ribbon around your hips and it’s not funny now.”

“hey, it was kind of funny before you screamed. but okay, this doesn’t really count as a gift since i bought the hat for myself,” bryce said quickly as he pulled the hat over his head.

casey was confused. she knew bryce hated wearing hats because of what it does to his hair so he certainly wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a santa hat.

“i give you… holiday me!” bryce smiled. “you know how much i hate hats and how much i love the holidays… so i hope you appreciate this gift. of me. in case you didn’t get it.”

casey doubled over in laughter. “oh my god, bryce! this is amazing! don’t move, i want a picture!”

after taking the photo and curling up on the couch with their drinks, bryce grabbed the hat and placed it over casey’s head.

“i love you, case. happy holidays,” he said warmly, leaning in to give her a soft kiss.

* * * * * mentions: @choicesficwriterscreations; @openheartfanfics; @kelseaaa; permatag: @withbeautyandrage; @agentnolastname; @freckles-spangledvampire